


You Can't Take the Sky from Me

by thegrumblingirl



Series: The Stars, the Moon, They Have All Been Blown Out [4]
Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: M/M, Revelations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-04
Updated: 2012-08-04
Packaged: 2017-11-11 10:02:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/477341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrumblingirl/pseuds/thegrumblingirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gene and Sam continue their relationship, but there's trouble underway and uncomfortable truths lurking in the shadows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can't Take the Sky from Me

"You're nicked!"

With those words, a certain scumbag was cuffed, seized by the bollocks, and carted away; just the way DCI Gene Hunt liked it.

"You alright, Sammy boy?" His gruff voice softening, Gene sat next to his DI, who was currently nursing a bleeding nose and a slightly bruised ego.

It had not been a good day for DI Sam Tyler, deceased copper, fighting crime and catching scum at the other end of the universe that was the year 1977. He'd been shoved through a window, beaten by a great handbag, and clocked by a mugger before he finally clapped him in irons. Sam groaned into the guv's handkerchief and rolled his eyes.

"Everything's peachy, luv."

Gene glanced around and, finding no-one in earshot, didn't object to the term of endearment. If anything, he encouraged it by ruffling the younger man's hair, smiling lightly.

"Come on, let's get you home and cleaned up."

"Shouldn't we go down to the station?"

"Nah, Chris and Ray can take care of it."

Sam shrugged and followed his partner to the Cortina.

The ride was quiet—it had been a long day after two weeks of long days. A murder, serial muggings, and an armed robbery, all related; lots of suspects, contradicting evidence, and a shitstorm in the papers. All they wanted now was to get home and into bed. Despite his exhaustion and throbbing pain exuding from his nose, Sam smiled to himself. After the divorce last year, Gene had managed to get an apartment in Sam's building, which made sneaking almost embarrassingly easy. Following a nice little shouting match and a long hard stare, the landlord didn't bother them anymore, so no-one was there to comment on how Gene's flat looked hardly lived in, his fridge was mostly empty, and the grocery shopping often done together, after work. Sam hated hiding, but he'd never had any illusions—no matter what this world was, 1977 was as real as it had ever gotten, so having a secret relationship was the best they could do if they wanted to keep their arses—particularly those—out of prison. As long as they could fool the world (except for Annie, she knew a lot of sordid details, courtesy of Sam—Gene had been mad at first, but had quickly realized Annie was happy for them and had no intention of ratting them out) by day and sneak around by night, they were happy. Sometimes, when they had a bad case, or when they were fighting—which, God knew, still happened often enough—Sam reminded himself that they had a home.  _Their_  home. Something he'd longed, but never dared to hope for before that fateful day when Reg Cole had nearly blown Sam's brains out and caused something in Gene to snap and give in to his feelings for him. Even after that, actually: Gene had stayed married for three more years. Granted, the marriage had been a sham for the longest while, and while Gene had spent many nights at Sam's place, it hadn't been a home. Now it was, had been for little over a year now, and Sam was busy counting his blessings, no matter how many times a week he wanted to tattoo the phrases 'building a solid case' and 'we need evidence' onto his DCI's arse. He loved him, as shockingly simple that was, and was loved in return. He didn't know how long they had, but he was determined to make the most of it. Sam almost sighed—there it was again. He still thought it might be over the next day, didn't he? It was unfair, he knew it, and he knew he'd hurt Gene if he told him.

Gene steered his Cortina through the dark streets of Manchester, and tried not to say anything stupid. Like, 'I know you committed suicide to get back, Sam. Back to me.' Or, 'I understand why you left us here. You wanted to go home, and we weren't real.' He tried not to tell him that he'd almost told his wife that night—that he was in love with another man, that he knew what Sam had done, and that he hated having to stay angry at him for a good chunk of eternity. That it really actually hurt, to know that Sam had told him he loved him when he'd thought he were a figment of his imagination. He was a big friend of truth, but this one seemed a bit too volatile. So he'd bottled it all up. It was killing him.

His knees still buckled when Sam kissed him in that hungry, curious way he had; both because his kisses were intoxicating and because he knew what Sam had given up for this. Sam had a right to know—what this world really was, what Gene really was. What they all were.

"Your place or mine?" Sam joked from the side as he parked the car in front of their building. Returning from his reverie, Gene rolled his eyes at him, but put a steadying hand on the small of his back as they went up to their flat.

* * *

"Thanks," Sam said as Gene handed him a clean shirt through the bathroom door. Fortunately, his nose wasn't broken, and the bleeding had stopped. While he'd gotten himself tidied up, Gene had found them something to eat—mostly leftovers, but they weren't picky.

Afterwards, they went to bed quietly. Lying in the dark, facing each other, bodies aligned and legs entangled, Sam was just about to sigh contentedly and drift off, when he heard Gene say something he wasn't prepared to hear.

"How long do you think we have left, Sammy boy?"

Sam blinked. Blinked, then stared into the dark for the longest while, trying to call his thoughts to order. When that didn't work, he sat up in the bed and just said the first thing that did come out.

"I don't understand."

Gene sat up as well, their bodies still as close as they had been lying down. "I think you do understand, more than you let on, Sammy boy. I'm not kidding you, I'm asking."

"Why should our time be limited? Is there a promotion pending you're not telling me about?"

"Something like that."

"Oh, don't tell me they're making you a super!" Sam couldn't help himself, the anxiety in his belly released itself in a nervous laugh that would have set David Letterman on edge.

"Sam." Gene's voice was level, but dangerous, and he sobered.

"What is this world, then?"

"Why don't you tell me what you know?"

"Is this the right time and place to discuss this?"

"It's now or never, Sammy. I might never pluck up the courage again, and then it will be too late."

Sam had to swallow past a lump in his throat at the admission, and searched for words. "Well, I think we're all dead." He waited for a reaction, but none came, so he pressed on. "I think we're all dead, and this is some kind of Heaven for coppers. Or maybe limbo, I don't know, considering I was—no, you wouldn't believe me."

"Considering you were in a coma."

"What? You—you know about that? You believe me?"

"I always have."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because you weren't supposed to know. And now that you do…"

"Now what?"

"Nothing. Just go on."

"Alright. Anyway, I was in a coma, and meanwhile I was here, and I didn't think… I didn't think any of this was real. Even when I was with you, even after we got together, I didn't believe in this world. I wanted to believe in you, just you, but it was hard. That's why I… that's why I left you there, during the train robbery. I thought if I left you there, if I decided against this world, maybe I could wake up. Go home. Get better. Remember you and this world and become a better copper." Sam fell silent after the words had tumbled out of his mouth in a rush, and waited for Gene's reaction. Waited for his partner to shove him, to shout at him. When Gene opened his mouth to retort, Sam involuntarily tensed and held his breath.

"I know. I knew then, and I know now. And I understand, though it hurts. When you came back, and I was angry at you, it wasn't for turning your back on us. It was because you didn't think this was real—I know why you didn't. But it still hurt. And if my trust is still damaged now, it isn't because I think you were a snivelling traitor, but because I'm still afraid you don't really believe in this."

"Gene, I—I'm sorry. You don't deserve this, you don't deserve me doubting you. But why can't I let go? Why is this still so important? I mean, I don't have any connections to the real—I mean, to the old life like I had when I was in a coma, but why am I still aware of it? Why can't I forget, like all the others?"

"Don't you dare." Gene's voice had dropped to a growl, and Sam instinctively pulled away to get a better look at his face in the dim ambient light that poured in from outside.

"What?"

"Don't you dare say I don't deserve you, Sam Tyler."

"But I'm not—"

"I know what you did, alright? I know how you came back. And that's why you can't let go, why you're still self-aware. You chose to be here. Of course, we have coppers who committed suicide, but they had to destination in mind. You wanted to come here, this time, you truly 'put in for it.' And what am I supposed to do, knowing you killed yourself to come back? Why did you do that, you fool?"

"You know why."

"No, I don't."  _I only hope I do_ , thought Gene, and damned himself for his selfishness.

"My old life, it wasn't the same. I realized it wasn't what I wanted. Nelson told me, when I'd just gotten here, that, 'If you can feel, then you're alive. When you don't feel, you're not.' I didn't feel when I was back, Gene. It was then that I realized that I'd left behind what I needed the most, and that life didn't make any sense without it. I had planned to go back and remember you, and use what you'd taught me to lead a better life. Except there was no life to lead without you."

_Oh Lord. So he did love me enough._

Intuitively, Gene lifted his hand and gently dragged it through Sam's hair. Despite the situation, Sam leaned into his touch and sighed softly. He seemed glad he'd gotten it off his chest, and although their conversation was far from over, Gene relaxed a little.

"Is it wrong of me to say I hoped you'd say that?"

Sam chuckled. "No. It's morbid, but I'm glad. Though I don't understand why you were only mad at me for a few months. Why didn't you say anything? And why do you know so much about it and the others don't? How did you get here?"

"I didn't get here."

"What do you mean?"

"Sam, I'm not kidding when I keep saying this is my kingdom."

Sam stopped and stared for the second time that night. He'd felt thrown off a curve the moment Gene had uttered the first impossible statement tonight, but this really did nothing for his thought processes—or his complexion, for that matter.

"Your kingdom. You mean you  _made_  this?"

"Yep."

"You created this entire world, a parallel universe, except with a doorway, for dead coppers?"

"Yep."

"And all the officers who die end up here?"

"Yep."

"Is it weird that I just believe you?

"Maybe you love me."

Sam smiled ruefully and leaned closer to breathe in Gene's cologne. "Why? Why are we here? All of us? I mean, surely this place can't be big enough to hold every copper who ever died? Who takes care of them? Do you? How many have there been?" Sam told himself that it wasn't jealousy what he was feeling at the thought of Gene taking other frightened and confused coppers like him under his wing.

"It's not big enough, and I can't take care of all of them."

"Then where did they go?"

"They moved on."

"So this isn't Heaven, is it? This is… limbo. Purgatory?"

"I prefer to call it limbo. This isn't so much a place to decide whether you belong in Heaven or Hell, it's just a way for us to… come to terms with what we lost. To work through unresolved issues, to make good on the time we didn't get to have."

"Haven't you yet?"

"Maybe. It's been so long I can hardly remember. Anyway, even if I could, I can't leave. I have people to take care of."

"What about me? Why haven't I moved on yet? How does it work? Do I just wink out of existence when I've filled my quota of issues unresolved? Gene, what if… what if I don't want to?"

"You have to. And you'll know when it's time. We'll both know, and I can help you on your way. Although it's not that easy anymore now."

"I'm not leaving you."

"Sam, you've got to, one way or the other. Especially now that you know."

"What?"

"You can't stay forever now that you know who I am, what this world is."

This time, Sam actually recoiled from his lover's touch. He couldn't do this. He couldn't just tell him something he wasn't supposed to know and then tell him he had to leave because of it.

"Oh, so you've decided you had enough of me, have you? So you tell me something I shouldn't know to get rid of me by some bullshit cosmic house rules?" Gene tried to grab his wrists to pull him closer again, but he swatted the other man's hands away.

"Sam, no! Don't do this! It's not like that. I'm not chucking you out, you idiot, it's not going to happen faster now; I'm just telling you that you will eventually move on, and that you can't help that."

"But I could stay on longer after I'm ready if I didn't know who you are, isn't that right?"

"You could try to fight it, but you shouldn't, knowing who I am or not. Your soul would rot inside you."

"How long have the others been here?"

"Longer than you have."

"See!"

"But they're not done yet."

"When will they be?"

"I don't know."

"What if I decide to stop? What if I stop working, find another job, live a quiet afterlife. I'd sure as hell not be letting go of anything that way."

"You can't."

"Who says?" Sam's voice was rising now.

"I do. You keep doing your job, you make up for what you've lost. It happens, and when you're ready, you'll know."

"I don't want to!" Sam knew he was just whining now, but he wouldn't let this go.

"Sam! Don't you understand I'm doing you a favour? Anyone who ever came here, anyone who ever passed on, I had to tell eventually. When Ray, Chris, and Annie are ready, I'll have to tell them before they go. And they hurt, Sam. Every time, it takes convincing and explanations. Don't you see I'm trying to make it easier for us when the time comes?"

"How is knowing our time is limited by something we can't even influence making it easier?"

"Oh, it's not like you didn't think we had no expiration date before!"

Gene winced even as the words were leaving his mouth.

"Thanks,  _guv_. It might be true, but that doesn't make it any less of a cheap shot, you know!" Sam had sat up on his heels whilst saying this, and began gesticulating. This time, Gene managed to grab a hold of his wrists and held him steady.

"Sam, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have said that."

"No, you bloody well shouldn't have. And don't try to distract me, we're not done!"

Gene sighed. "What else can we do, Sam? It's not like I want you to leave anytime soon, God help me, I don't. I want you to stay for as long as possible, but it's not my place to keep you here."

"But this _is_  your place. Literally."

"Don't get cute, Tyler."

"Gene. Why did you never say anything?"

"To keep you safe, to keep all of us safe. If I hadn't been properly mad at you, and if you hadn't been properly depressed, it wouldn't have worked. And if I just started doling out too much advice and telling people what this world really is, what do you think would happen?"

Sam lowered his head and relaxed the strain he'd put on Gene's hold on his arms. "They'd try to get out."

"Exactly. Everything would come toppling down around us."

"Then why did you just tell me?"

"Because you know more than the others anyway. And because I trust you not to do anything stupid, as much of a loon as you are."

"And to make it easier for us."

"Right."

"How long, Gene?"

"I don't know. A few months, a few more years. I don't know the ways of the universe."

"What will happen when it's time? How do you disappear around here?"

"We'll make something up as we go along."

Sam stayed silent for a bit, mulling something over in his head. Eventually, he drew breath to speak. "Gene?" He sounded like the small boy he had once been, and Gene's heart clenched.

"What?"

"You know, that I had doubts about what's real doesn't mean I cared for you any less. I wanted you to be real. I knew my feelings were real—they must have been, otherwise I wouldn't have told you in the first place."

"I know."

"I wouldn't have come back otherwise."

"I know."

"Why are you so reasonable tonight?"

"I have my moments."

Sam smiled a little more brightly now, and arched upwards to kiss him. Gene let go of his wrists, so he wound his arms around Gene's neck and pressed against him.  _Huh_ , he thought.  _There we were, completely knackered, and now this_. Gene lowered them down so Sam was on his back underneath him, and kissed him hard, Sam responding in kind. Their tongues sliding against each other, their lowers bodies soon picked up the movement, and Sam nearly had to break free to gasp at the contact. Gene, now placing open-mouthed kisses on his neck and shoulder, chuckled and ground their hips together again, relishing in the moan it prompted from the other man.

Sam, not one to waste opportunities when they presented themselves, spread his legs and wound them around Gene's hips, urging him on. Unwinding one arm from around the older man's shoulders— _wait, how old exactly is he, then?_ , he wondered for a moment, but squashed the thought and concentrated on getting the bottle of lube and a condom out of his bedside drawer.

After he'd shoved bottle and little plastic packet into Gene's face—almost literally—he waited in anticipation while his partner spread some of the cool liquid over his fingers and bent slightly. Gene caught one of Sam's nipples between his teeth and used the sensations as a distraction as he slipped two fingers into Sam. The—definitely—younger man moaned again and bucked his hips against him. Gene crooked his fingers, knowing exactly how to make Sam wriggle underneath him  _just so_ , and Sam's hands started grasping at his back, trying to pull him closer.

"Please," he moaned.

Gene gladly complied, and when he'd prepared Sam enough, he removed his fingers, earning himself a protesting sigh. He spread some more lube on his own erection and moved his body up Sam's, steadying himself just before penetrating him. Sam grinned up at him and moved his hips, brushing their cocks together—now it was Gene's turn to gasp, and in benevolent retaliation, he slowly entered Sam's opening, giving his muscles time to adjust and relax around him.

"What are you waiting for?" Sam asked after a very generous break of five seconds, and Gene dipped his head to sharply tug at his earlobe with his teeth before starting to move. After a while, they were withdrawing and crashing back together with abandon, neither one caring about the moans and gasps. Gene wrapped one hand around Sam, and the man keened with relish.

Their breaths becoming even more ragged, their movements becoming increasingly more haphazard, Sam eventually came all over their bellies and the sheets, Gene reaching his climax shortly afterwards. They collapsed into each other, breathing slowing down, and Sam stretched, languidly arching into his lover. He reached sideways to get a hold of at least some corner of the blankets to tug them over their cooling bodies while Gene pulled out of him carefully, tossed the condom into the bin and draped all available limbs over him.

"This has got to be real, hasn't it?" he asked, a small smile hidden in his voice.

"You'll never shut up about it, will you?"

"Nope."

"Thank goodness."

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing, I get nothing. Title: the Firefly theme song, written by Joss Whedon and sung by Sonny Rhodes, is brilliant.
> 
> Repost from ff.net.


End file.
